A Common Enemy
by queenofspades72
Summary: Written for a prompt on tumblr. AU teenage Emma and Regina meet for the first time in high school. Warning: mentions of abuse.
1. Chapter 1

Regina huffed. The brunette didn't understand why she'd been summoned to the counselor's office this morning, and she sure as hell wasn't happy about it. She steeled herself before stepping through the door.

The sickeningly sweet smile of the high school counselor, Miss Powers, greeted her when she entered.

"Regina! How wonderful to see you today! How are you, dear?"

Regina resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and fixed the older woman with her most winning smile. "I'm doing wonderful, Miss P. And how are you?" She didn't actually care about her counselor's well-being, but social protocol called for the exchange of pleasantries, so she partook.

"I am excellent, my dear, thank you for asking. Now. Down to business." Miss Powers fixed Regina with a concerned look. "We missed you here yesterday, Reggie. That's the fourth time this month…"

Regina winced at the use of the terrible moniker. And at the implied question. "Oh, it was nothing Miss P." _ It wasn't nothing._ "I was just with my mother." _Getting the shit beat out of me._ "You know how I love spending time with her." _I hate her. _"And since she's so sick…" _At least that part was true. Sick and twisted, anyway._ Regina didn't have to fake the tears streaming down her face. Those were real.

"Oh, darling. I understand, I _understand_. Here, have a tissue. You know you can come talk to me whenever, right?" Regina nodded pitifully. "Alright then, you may go to class. And if you ever need to chat…" she trailed off.

Regina nodded again, turning and walking briskly from the office, straight to the ladies' room to recover. It didn't actually take long to put the mask back in place—hell, that had been recovered since she'd turned to face away from the counselor. But she should fix her makeup. And really, she could use the opportunity to wallow a bit more in her sorrow given the current situation. The hopelessness really was becoming overwhelming even for someone as composed as Regina typically was.

She let the tears fall naturally when she reached the bathroom. The place was empty, and she knew she could keep it that way if she just fixed the next person to walk in with one of her death glares. Her seniority and her reputation preceded her; even though she was class president and a straight-A student, everyone was terrified of her. Frankly, that was just how she liked it.

Regina bent over the sink, wanting desperately to retch, to rid her insides of the terrible pain consuming her. Her eyes darted up to the mirror, where her tears were uncovering the ugly purple bruise underneath her left eye.

Just then, a young girl walked in with long blonde hair. A freshman with an even bigger reputation than Regina. Regina fixed her with a glare, but the blonde just scoffed. She leaned back against the stalls and looked at Regina's reflection in the mirror before lighting a cigarette and shrugging uncaringly.

"Your parents beat you often?"

Regina's jaw dropped at… this woman. At the audacity.

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Name's Emma. And I only ask because I know something about that…" She rolled up her shirt a bit, revealing the top of a tattoo and, above it, four terrible black bruises that looked like fingerprints.

Regina's eyes widened. "My name's… Regina. And no, not my parents. Just my _mother_."

Emma's eyebrow arched at the venomous way Regina spat the word 'mother.' "You're a senior, right?"

"What?"

"You're a senior. Aren't you 18? Why don't you leave?"

"I—it's not that simple."

Emma blew out a puff of smoke and sighed. "It would be if I were 18. I would leave—go far away from here. Run away, and NEVER look back."

"I fear that would be too kind a fate."

Emma's eyes widened slightly. "For who?"

"I'd like to kill her." Regina spun to face Emma now, meeting her eyes to show her she was serious. Her jaw clenched harshly.

Emma smirked anyway. The girl had spunk, that was for certain. Emma admired that, in a strange way.

"Don't look at me like that," Regina hissed. She approached Emma. "You don't think I could do it, do you? I could, and I would savor every second. Every terrified glance. Every scream." She came to a stop closer to Emma than she had intended.

Emma had the feeling that Regina wasn't seeing herself standing in front of her. No, Regina was seeing another being entirely, judging from the hate swirling in her eyes. Emma took a step closer anyway, putting the cigarette out on the counter and leaving it there. She ran her hand along the side of Regina's face, the pad of her thumb grazing the bruise, and, to her surprise, the brunette leaned into her touch. "Don't let the evil win. Show the world you can punch back without becoming the thing you hate."

And with that, Emma disappeared out the door. Regina reached up and touched her cheek.


	2. Chapter 2

_Meet me after school at our tree._

Regina smiles. Ever since the incident in the bathroom, she and Emma have been leaving notes in each other's lockers, exchanging knowing glances in the hallway… even occasionally meeting up outside after school. But never for long enough. Regina's terrified of getting home late, and even though Emma doesn't care what _her_ "parents" think, it makes her uneasy to think of the repercussions Regina might face if she is late. So they never meet for long… but that hasn't stopped them from forming a tight friendship in the last few months.

A nervous flutter of anticipation overtakes Regina's heart as she heads for her last class of the day. She doesn't understand it, but lately, seeing Emma has filled her with nervous and anxious feelings. Feelings of excitement and anticipation.

She sighs as she tries to focus on her teacher and the complicated integrals he's explaining on the board, but her mind still drifts. Regina finds herself extremely relieved when the bell finally rings, and she runs out of the building to find their apple tree.

Emma is already standing underneath it, waiting for her. Regina smiles, "What, did you skip your last class to beat me here?"

Emma smirks. "No, I can just run faster without heels." She glances down to Regina's impractical footwear.

Regina rolls her eyes. "I thought you liked the heels on me?" she teased.

"Oh believe me, I do. It's worth it, even if you were late for our date."

Regina sucks in a breath at the word "date."

"Come on," Emma huffs impatiently, and grabs Regina's hand.

"Where are we going?"

Emma turns and looks her in the eyes. "Do you trust me?"

Regina nods without thinking. Emma pulls at her hand once more, and Regina just follows.

The blonde leads her a ways into the woods behind their high school before climbing a ladder at the base of one of the trunks. Regina can see the tree house at the top, but still she hesitates. Until Emma motions for her to follow.

When she reaches the top, Regina gasps. The little room she finds is littered with books and blankets.

Emma glances at Regina gauging her reaction. "I run away here as often as I can. I wanted to show you…"

Regina looks around in awe. It really isn't much, but she still whispers, "It's beautiful."

Emma smiles lightly, then looks down sadly. "I wanted to show you before tomorrow. In case you ever need a place to run away to."

Regina wrinkles her nose. "What's tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow I—I'm leaving. My family doesn't want me anymore, so I'll go back into the system." She steps forward and takes Regina's hand again. "I don't want to. Even if I do hate my family, for the first time, I'm," she glances down at their connected hands before intertwining their fingers, "I'm happy…"

Regina feels her world crashing in around her. The breath leaves her lungs. "You're leaving?!"

"I'm sorry." Emma pulls something from her backpack and hands it to Regina. "I got something for you, but you have to promise me not to open it until after I leave."

"I promise." Regina accepts the gift, eyes never leaving Emma's.

Emma turns, unable to take the tension. "Sorry I didn't straighten up in here," she says lightly as she begins stacking some of the books.

Regina quietly opens the package while Emma continues talking and straightening. Inside is a beautiful silver bracelet with a bright red charm. An apple. It looks like a miniature version plucked straight from their spot. She puts her nail in the crack running vertically along the charm, and finds that it opens. Inside is a note. Regina gasps.

Emma turns around quickly. She doesn't look surprised to see Regina has failed to keep her promise.

"You love me?" Regina asks quietly.

Emma stands up and pulls Regina into a hug, running her fingers through her short brunette locks. "Wouldn't this all be so much easier if I didn't?"

Regina pulls back just enough to look into Emma's eyes. "I think—I think I love you too."

Emma runs her hand slowly over Regina's cheek, looking intently into Regina's eyes, studying them for truth.

"I'm scared," Regina whispers before Emma leans up to connect their lips.

"Never be scared to love."

Emma tucks a lock of the brunette's hair behind her ear, letting her fingers linger down her jawline.

"I will come back for you. Someday. I will find you." Emma's jaw is set as she brings her hand down to squeeze Regina's. Regina's eyes close, tears squeezing out through the corners.

When she opens them, Emma is gone.

Regina lets the tears flow freely, then, wondering if Emma will keep her promise.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Four years later…**_

"I love you, Daddy," Regina whispered as they closed the casket one last time. She shuddered lightly as her mother pulled her closer, wincing as Cora deliberately squeezed her arm where the bruises from last night were angriest.

Regina yanked away angrily, before running to the casket and throwing her arms over it, sobbing. The one solace she had left in this life was gone. Her father had left her. Just as Emma had. Just as everyone did.

She heard Cora approaching, but remained where she was. She hung limply, choking softly when her mother grabbed the back of her collar and yanked her up from her position strewn over the casket. Her eyes dared to meet Cora's thunderous glare and she winced before the first hit came.

…

Eighteen. And a mother. How had this happened?

Just eighteen.

Emma wrapped the tiny bundle further into her embrace. She knew she had to do something—anything different. She wasn't ready to be a mother, and on top of that…

The blonde cringed as the front door slammed. A murderous, "Where are you?" tore from the lips of the intruder. Emma kissed her son's head before laying him down in the crib. Exiting the only bedroom in the tiny apartment, Emma met her boyfriend's gaze. No—her fiancée's gaze.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" She attempted a bright tone as Emma reached for his coat. She needn't have bothered. He removed the garment and threw it at her. Emma cried out softly as the zipper hit the corner of her eye, but quickly hid the pain and hung up the coat.

"You—" he started darkly. "You were with _him _again, weren't _you_?"

"Honey, you're drunk." The _again_ was implied. "Why don't you sit down and…?"

"No!" He interrupted her midsentence. "You have to get rid of him."

"I'm not cheating!" But Emma knew even as the words left her mouth that that was not what he was referring to.

He sighed as he sank down onto the sofa, rubbing his face with his hands. A soft cry sounded from the bedroom. "_Him_." Emma blanched at her fiancée's angry hiss. "Every time I see that… that _thing_, he reminds me of what YOU DID."

Emma sat lightly beside him and grabbed his hand. "Oh August." He looked up at her with a pained expression. She caressed his face lightly before offering him a smile. "I know. I know something—something needs to be done. I'll find somewhere for him tomorrow."

…

Regina winced as she readied herself for her day, lightly pulling on a blazer and attempting to treat her right arm as delicately as possible. At least her mother had the good sense to relegate the bruising to hidden places now that Regina had a job—a job as a public representative, no less. The legislature of the small town did _not_need another scandal to sink its teeth into, especially since Regina had only sought work as a sort of reprieve from her home life. At twenty-two, she should just leave. But she didn't have it in her. Regina acknowledged that now as she had acknowledged it four years ago in that women's restroom at the high school. Regina seethed quietly. Even broken as she was, she still believed with all her heart that just leaving would be too kind. Somehow, someway, she wanted to see her mother suffer.

Regina flinched. While her thoughts had wandered, she had absentmindedly squeezed the charm on her bracelet tighter and tighter until it burst open once more. A lone tear slipped down the brunette's cheek as she retrieved the piece of paper that fluttered out of the deep red apple. It hadn't been opened since that fateful day, and now, the all-too-painful reminder stared her down. The reminder of all that she'd promised. And all that she'd become since. The weakness disgusted her. She promptly shoved the paper back in the charm and snapped it shut.

The sound of the doorbell surprised her. Anyone important knew that her mother was already at work, and Regina never had any visitors.

Still, she walked briskly down the steps before tentatively opening the door.

A gasp left her lips at the sight that greeted her: a blonde woman holding a squirming infant with a grip that said _I never want to let you go_. Emma.

"Regina, I can't stay long. He can't find out about you, or where I left him. I just…"

"Emma?!" The name left Regina's lips with an astonished wonderment.

"Regina, you have to focus on me for a second." Emma sought Regina's eyes. "I know this isn't how you envisioned our meeting again but…"

"Emma." Regina whispered, reaching out to stroke Emma's cheek.

Emma pulled away slowly. "I'm sorry." She and Regina stood staring at each other. "Shit, look Gina, I have to go, but I need you to take him." The blonde gestured down to the bundle in her arms.

Regina looked down, amazed, as though noticing the tiny child for the first time. "What? Why? I can't…" But before Regina could protest further she found the infant shoved into her arms.

"Promise me you'll take good care of him?" Tears streamed down Emma's cheeks even as she backed down the front walk.

"Emma I can't! EMMA!" The blonde turned and ran before throwing herself into a yellow Bug and speeding off.

Regina looked down at the boy in her arms. He smiled up at her happily, completely unaware. Regina couldn't help but smile back at him. _What am I going to do?_

She reentered the mansion she shared with her mother.

_What am I going to do? And, more importantly, what will my mother think—do?_

Deciding to tackle one issue at a time, Regina headed to her bedroom to change the child's diaper.

"Whatever just transpired, I'll take good care of you. I promise you. I do promise you that… Henry."

…

Emma rushed back into her apartment, biting back wrenching sobs. Through a teary haze she gathered her things—mostly just a few changes of clothes and her baby blanket—into a suitcase. She just didn't want to do it anymore. Seeing Regina had reinforced that. Emma used to be stronger than this.

She jotted out a note to August and turned to the front door.

And froze when the doorknob turned.

…

Regina sat on the main staircase facing the front door, dreading the moment her mother would walk in. What was she going to tell her?

Just then, the lock clicked. Regina looked up to see her mother staring down at her with disdain.

"What are you doing here, child? Did you not have work today like everyone else?"

"I—I got off early." Regina looked down as her mother locked the door behind her.

"Ahh. I see." Her movements were swift. Cora had her hand wrapped around Regina's throat, pressing her back into the staircase before Regina even had a chance to blink.

"Mother!" the younger woman choked out.

"DO NOT LIE TO ME." Cora punctuated every word in a voice absolutely dripping with poison.

Just then, Henry began crying upstairs. Cora's attention snapped up; her eyes narrowed before glaring back down at her daughter. "WHAT did you do?" With a final thrust of her hand into Regina's neck, Cora got up and stalked upstairs.

"Mother, no!" Regina ran up after her, breathless from both the quickened pace and Cora's deadly embrace.

One glance into Regina's bedroom and Cora whirled around to once again face her daughter.

"Please, Mother. Please don't hurt him."

The older woman stalked forward and grabbed Regina by the shoulders. She shoved her against the wall, still grasping her firmly. "I don't want to hear it." Cora spoke in even tones. She dug her fingernails into her daughter's shoulders as she firmly stated her ultimatum. "Get rid of it."

"But Mother!"

She dug her nails in deeper, feeling the skin breaking beneath her grasp. "That… thing… will be gone tomorrow." She drug her nails slowly, unwaveringly down Regina's arms. "Or else…"

Regina's frightened gaze turned to the floor. "Yes, Mother."

Cora stalked off.

Regina had absolutely no intention of following through on her promise.

…

"Just where do you think you're going?" August circled Emma like a lion ready to pounce.

"I was just going to go for a couple nights. Regain my bearings. I swear." Emma hid the note she had intended to leave in her back pocket. "It's hard you know—giving up a kid. Not that you would understand that."

August glanced down, drawing his face into a deeply saddened expression. "But… you're coming back?"

Emma knew she was being played. She just couldn't bring herself to care. Touching August's cheek lightly, she mumbled, "Of course I will."

Emma fixed him with a quick peck on the lips before leaving for a hotel.

She came back three days later.

She was no longer strong enough to just leave.

…

Regina quietly rocked Henry as she sat at the desk chair in her office. His cries had died down now, and after changing him again she was content to hold him forever like this. Except…

Except she had found a note pinned to his blanket when she had changed him last. And now she was aching to read it. Regina snuggled Henry closer, then opened the note with trembling hands.

_My Darling Regina,_

_I know it's been a while, and I can never explain 'today' to you in a way that will make sense. I want this kid to have a better life than I can give, and the only person I thought might be able to give him that was you. I hope you don't hate me for dropping him off unexpectedly, or especially for not staying to enjoy seeing each other again. I miss you—very much. I think about that last day in the treehouse often, and, well, were things different now I would come back for you. I still will. Some day. Don't give up hope. Please fight for me, Gina. Stay strong, and I love you._

_Always,  
Emma_

Regina fought back tears as she cuddled her loved one's son. If only Emma knew what a terrible home she had thrown little Henry into… even if Cora wasn't there, Regina certainly wasn't fit to be a mother.

Regina's jaw set as her hands began to shake again. Henry didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to grow up like she did. No—and she wouldn't allow it.

Regina could fix it. She WOULD fix it.

…

The bell over the door tinkled lightly as Regina entered the musty pawn shop. She had never been in the shop before, but she had certainly heard the rumors that circulated about it and its keeper, Mr. Gold.

A middle-aged man looked up from the trinket he was polishing. "What can I do for you today, dearie?"

"I need… something. Help—I need, help. I was told you—nevermind." Regina turned again to leave, pressing her weight into the door.

Mr. Gold continued polishing the object in his hands, not bothering to look at Regina then. "Miss Mills, why don't you stay and we can discuss the deal you wish to make regarding your mother more fully."

Regina turned around, terrified. "How did you—?" She wasn't sure if she was about to ask how he had known her name or how he knew what her business there was.

"Never mind _that_." Gold motioned to an antique chair in the middle of the room full of trinkets. "I know what _you_ want. But what's in it for me?"

"How could you possibly…"

"Ah, ah, ah! I have my ways." Mr. Gold glanced up briefly and shot her a sickeningly sweet smile.

Regina gulped. The brunette felt ill… the kind of ill you felt after you'd eaten too much candy. "I don't—I don't have anything of value to give you."

"Who said anything about _value_?" Mr. Gold practically hissed.

Regina felt suddenly as if she was in the garden with the serpent, coaxing her to take just… one… bite. She bit.

"I'll give you anything."

"Excellent, Miss Mills. For now, you can owe me a favor."

Regina cringed inwardly. She hated owing people. But she hated living under her mother's thumb even more. And just the thought of Henry with her… Regina shuddered before standing to full height. "Just so we're clear, you'll get rid of her, then?"

"Oh, dearie. That's being taken care of as we speak."

Regina's eyes widened. How could this strange man have known? She backed out of the store slowly.

"Have a wonderful afternoon." Gold called after her chuckling lightly.

Regina returned home quickly.

Maybe now Regina could care for Henry as if he were her own without her mother's interference.

And live for the day when she would reunite with her love once again.


	4. Chapter 4

When Regina returned home, she half expected to find her mother still there, working in the study as would be typical of her. The other half of her—the half that held out some kind of hope that that Mr. Gold character had actually somehow fulfilled his promise to make her mother go away—expected a note from her mother on the kitchen counter, explaining to her daughter that she was going to go take over some other town now, that she was disappointed in her as always, that she wouldn't stick around to see her ruin her life with that child.

Never did Regina expect to find what she actually found.

"Mother?" she called as she entered the house. Not hearing a response, she went ahead and checked the study and the kitchen. Nothing. The house was quiet—too quiet—until she heard her baby's wails upstairs. Regina ran.

In some kind of sick and twisted irony, the purple scarf her mother had bought her—the one Regina had always hated but had been forced to wear anyway—tightly encircled her mother's throat. Her complexion was an eerie, lighter shade of purple-grey. She was lying, face-up, next to Henry's crib. Regina had already seen more than she wanted to. Plucking Henry quickly from his crib, Regina turned and ran.

She didn't even make it all the way down the stairs before the doorbell rang.

Panicking further, Regina ran for the back door instead, son in her arms. She flung the door open, and was immediately greeted by the grim faces of two police officers. Regina immediately deflated. One of the officers handcuffed her and read her her rights, while the other snatched Henry from her arms. Regina didn't even hear the first officer as tears streamed down her cheeks, and she tried desperately to free herself of the cuffs—just to reach out and touch, protect, love her son again. But the handcuffs, of course, held firm, and Regina watched in despair as Henry was taken from her before she was led to the back of a police car and shoved unceremoniously inside.

…

Emma winced as her suitcase audibly clicked shut. August snored a little louder for a second, but then quieted down and resumed a more even breathing pattern. Emma let out a sigh of relief.

She was a little ashamed that this was the only way she could escape his abusive grasp—by sneaking away in the middle of the night. Several times before she had tried to leave and had been unsuccessful. This time she intended to leave no matter what. She just really hoped he didn't wake up.

Shortly after leaving her son at Regina's front door and returning to August time and time again, Emma realized she was living a lie—and being weaker than she ever dreamed by allowing herself to continue doing so. She was disappointed in herself for not breaking away sooner. She wished she had the courage to leave in broad daylight, to face August and tell him on no uncertain terms that she was done—they were done. But she knew herself better than that. She would have caved and come back like she always did.

Not this time.

This time she was determined to move closer to Regina and her son. Maybe she would get the opportunity to establish a relationship with both of them. Emma sucked in an excited breath at the idea of resuming some kind of friendship—or more—with Regina. How she had missed her since they had parted in high school!

Emma slipped on her shoes and opened the front door. It creaked slightly. She heard a weak, confused call, "Emma?" from the bedroom. Pausing only a moment, Emma made her final decision, took the leap of faith. She shut the door behind her.

Jumping into her yellow Bug and firing up the ignition, Emma drove fast for a neighboring city. She would stay in a hotel there for a few days, maybe a few weeks, to regroup, and then head back to her hometown, to Regina, to her son. She would make this family work. They would be together again.

…

Regina awoke the next morning to a stream of light pouring in the window. She yawned and stretched, working out the kinks in her back from sleeping all night on such an uncomfortably hard cot.

Wait… a cot?

Regina sat straight up, confused. Seeing her harsh, damp surroundings, the cool bars encasing her, it all came rushing back. Emma. Henry. The man in the pawn shop, Mr. Gold. Her mother, dead. The officers. Henry again, taken away. The jail. The attempted interview. Her refusal to cooperate until she knew what was to happen with her son. The tranquilizer…

Regina bit her lip to keep from audibly crying out. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she grabbed the limp pillow off of the cot and buried her face in it. The damp cotton smelled unwashed, reeked of alcohol and worse, but she didn't care. Right now, that pillow was all she had left to cling to. And so she did.

Sobs wracked her body as she weakly attempted to stifle them. Yesterday, Regina had reached the lowest of lows. Now she literally had no one left in this world, and nothing. In one day, she had lost her mother, her son, and her freedom.

For years, Regina had wanted her mother gone. Had wished death upon her. Had wanted to be the one driving the blade through her black heart. But now the experience felt wholly unsatisfactory—anticlimactic. Her mother, twisted though it was, had been someone in her life at least. Her mother had always been there for her, had always loved her, Regina thought, even if she showed it in the worst of ways. And now even that was gone.

Regina's sobs died slowly as her thoughts wandered.

Something bothered Regina about the events of the day before, beyond all of the emotional trauma she had been through. It just sat in her mind, festering, creeping slowly into the corners of her brain, filling her with doubt and questions even when she wasn't fully conscious of its existence.

Regina suddenly stiffened, sitting up straighter as if a rod had replaced her spine. Her tears dried away as abruptly as they had assaulted her.

How had the police known to come for her? Had they, in the short time she was gone, happened upon her house, discovered Cora's body, assumed Regina was the one who murdered her, and then lay in wait for her return? Regina hadn't been gone that long. Something didn't add up.

Regina wasn't used to rage. She had occasionally played with it in high school, but her style tended more toward internalizing her emotions, experiencing sadness, feeling deflated and utterly hopeless. But what she felt now, at the realization that the man she had sought help from _had_ to have betrayed her trust, was most decidedly rage.

The pressure built in Regina's head. Her hands began shaking visibly, and she clenched her fists to quell them. Jaw clamping shut, teeth grinding, heart beating faster, all as she contemplated longer and further how the cool and mysterious figure had tricked her, lied to her, manipulated her.

But for what purpose? That was the one thing she still didn't understand. What profit did Mr. Gold achieve from selling her out? If her mother wasn't so decidedly dead, Regina would be convinced he had been working for her somehow. But she had seen the pale hue of her mother's skin with her own eyes—the way the scarf twisted sickeningly around her thin, white neck. No, her mother was dead. No question.

Then what of Mr. Gold's motivation?

The sound of a key scraping the lock on her cell jolted Regina from her thoughts.

An overweight officer with a shock of red hair greeted her with a grim smile. "Up," he muttered, apparently attempting to keep his communication with her to a minimum.

Regina just sat. "Where are you taking me?"

"Just get up," the officer said through clenched teeth. He was clearly in no mood to deal with anyone questioning him or refusing to comply.

Still Regina sat. "Tell me what you want with me, and then I'll follow willingly."

Clearly she had pushed it too far. The officer stormed forward and snatched Regina off of the cot by her shoulders. She struggled and fought him, thrashing and pounding her fists into him, but she was no match for his burly form. He just held her firmly in place as he maneuvered her out of the cell and down the hall to a small, square room with no windows. In the center of the room sat a small table and two chairs, one of which was occupied.

"Ah, ah, dearie. If you want me to help you convince them you had no violent intentions yesterday, I think you had better rethink your current actions."

Regina stopped struggling and bit out, "Gold." The officer let her go, and she practically fell forward. He sat her in the chair opposite the pawn shop owner before cuffing her hands in front of her and leaving the room.

"What are you doing here?" Regina asked evenly, through clenched teeth.

"I think the question, Miss Mills, is what are _you_ doing _here_?" Mr. Gold chuckled darkly under his breath.

"You know _damn_ well what I'm doing here, Gold."

"Ah, I don't believe I know what you are implying, dearie."

Regina stood up quickly, struggling with her cuffs, the hard metal digging into her sensitive flesh. She didn't make it a step before the red-headed officer had rushed back inside, grabbing her shoulders and slamming her back down into her chair, threatening to restrain her feet too if she didn't behave. Regina shot him a dirty look, but remained seated. The officer appeared satisfied with this, and left once more.

"Miss Mills, while I do enjoy the fight in you, I think you'll find that this process will be much easier for you if you act like a calm and harmless person, especially if you would like to convince them in the near future that you are one." Mr. Gold gestured at what were clearly two-way mirrors as if to emphasize his point.

Regina could see reason—could understand this man's logic. Still, she sat on the very edge of her chair stiffly. "Why are you here, Gold?"

"I was informed you were here, Miss Mills. And that you were in need of a lawyer. I thought it wise to offer my services…" Mr. Gold trailed off to let the information sink in.

"Your… service…" Regina was incredulous. "Why the hell would I want your services after you basically framed me for murder? Why would I trust you?"

"Because, dearie. I can help you."

"You could have helped me by not putting me in this situation in the first place!" Had Regina been a little less self-disciplined she would have been on her feet once more, enraged.

"Ah, but then you wouldn't need my help like you do now. You wouldn't be so desperate—so willing to try… anything." Mr. Gold flashed her a toothy grin.

"What… what do you mean?" For the first time since her arrival in the room, Regina was thrown off her game. Before she thought she'd held all the pieces of the puzzle, but she realized once more that, not knowing his motivation, Mr. Gold still had the upper-hand. The old cliché 'knowledge is power' taunted her.

"Dearie, you are still not in a place where I can tell you _that_." Mr. Gold flashed Regina another smile that just served to anger her. "But as I am your lawyer, why don't we get started with you recounting the facts from yesterday, hmm?"

"No. Not until you tell me what you mean, wanting me desperate. Why the hell would you frame me for something only to attempt to help me now? It doesn't make sense."

"They took your boy, didn't they Miss Mills? Do you know what will happen to him? He'll be put into foster care for the time being, as you have no living relatives. Should you lose this case, or maybe even if you don't—it's hard to tell with the state—he will remain there, in the system, moving from one family to another for years. Are you familiar with the system Miss Mills?"

Regina was trembling. "Yes, I—I had a best friend in high school who was put through the system."

"Ah, and I'm sure she had nothing but glowing remarks for it, didn't she?"

"She was abused."

Mr. Gold nodded, steepling his fingers. "So you understand the gravity of the situation. You either listen to me—allow me to help you—or you risk him facing the same fate as your friend."

Visibly, Regina had deflated.

"Now, to business. Tell me, in your own words, what occurred yesterday…"


	5. Chapter 5

The trial wasn't set to begin for another few weeks. Regina, who had always lived in the lap of luxury, absolutely hated her surroundings. She couldn't say that, by itself, the jail was worse than living with an abusive mother, but missing common comforts as well as every human being that had ever positively graced her life made her beyond miserable.

Her thoughts drifted frequently. What was Emma doing? Did she know anything about Regina or her situation now? Where had Henry been put? Was he being treated well? What would her life have been like now if she still had Henry, or Emma for that matter? What would her life have been like now if she still lived with her mother?

But the question that plagued her most was still the one regarding Mr. Gold's motivation. Regina spent day and night contemplating why he would have set her up only to seemingly help her now. And what he meant by wanting her desperate. And for what purpose.

Regina didn't trust him of course. She would have been crazy to at this point. But he was the only human being left who seemingly was advocating for her, so she had to comply, feed him the information he wanted, and generally behave when he came around to see her, which was usually about once a week. He never failed to remind her of her son, and what his fate might be if she refused to cooperate. The words always struck Regina as thinly veiled threats rather than kind reminders. But perhaps she was being overly suspicious.

While the worst part of it all was the psychological turmoil—all this time she had alone to be haunted by her thoughts and questions—the physical and emotional turmoil were equally present. Regina was not eating well anymore, and her already thin form was becoming downright lanky, scarily thin. What once was a healthy curve near her hipbones was now all flat, bones protruding further than ever, pulling tightly on her skin. She noticed it equally in her ribs, which she could now count visibly.

Her hygiene, as one would imagine, was also lacking. Her hair hung in limp, oily strands unlike the perfect coif she once boasted without a single lock misplaced. Her skin was oily too, as well as bearing marks and bruises from the other inmates whose path she had occasionally crossed. Regina's flawless face hadn't seen makeup in ages, not that she minded that part especially, but it was still so ingrained in her to look absolutely flawless at all times, to maintain appearances, and it felt wrong not to do so.

Worst of all, however, was how the other inmates treated her. Other prisoners came and went quickly and flakily—she was the only constant prisoner there—and yet she was always the outcast. A child of privilege, as they saw her, could not hold her own amongst these children of the streets, and they all took advantage of that. They bullied her, pushed her around, exploited her emotional weakness, and took any physical possessions she might have valued, including her meals most days. That was just one of many reasons she wasn't eating, though.

Speaking of physical possessions… Regina touched her wrist lightly. The authorities had taken her most valuable things when she had entered the jail, and that included her bracelet with the apple charm and the note inside. That was what hurt the most. Through all of the years Regina had suffered under her mother's thumb, that bracelet had been there to remind her that somewhere out there, someone cared about her, believed in her, loved her. And now even that was gone. Psychologically, that had been the hardest blow for Regina. She always, admittedly stupidly, felt safer—protected—with that bracelet on, and now its reminder, everything it stood for, was gone, and Emma with it.

Regina literally had no one.

And that's why it caught her so off-guard when someone came to see her.

"Regina?" A faint voice called to her through the bars. The red-headed guard escorted Emma into the room with the cells.

"Emma!" Regina got up excitedly and rushed to the bars. As Emma took a step back, Regina searched her eyes, carefully. "What are you doing here?"

"I read about your trial in the paper. I wanted to come to see what they'd done with my son…"

Regina's hopes deflated. Emma wasn't there to check on her. She just wanted to know how her son was doing. "I don't really know, Emma. All they've told me is he's in foster care."

Emma sucked in a breath at that news. "I should have guessed…"

"I'm so sorry Emma."

Emma couldn't maintain her composure, though. As tears filled her eyes, she tried to hide them from Regina. When she was unsuccessful, she just turned around and ran out, as Regina called after her.

The guard turned to Regina and chuckled lightly. He never had liked her since the first day she had fought against him. For the first time, Regina noticed he held something in his hand. An apple. He held it up for her to see. "This was from the young lady who just ran out. She said it was for you. From your tree or something like that. Of course, we couldn't have her just coming into the jail and giving you anything…" He chuckled once more as he took a big, juicy bite from the prized fruit, tossing the rest into a nearby trash can as he turned and left. Regina's blood began to boil. Her mind couldn't decide whether it was more upset at seeing Emma for the first time in such a long time in this fashion, at her abrupt departure, or at the guard for taunting her with what he must know was something special.

Regina collapsed heavily on her cot. Maybe she could sleep her whole life into nonexistence…

…

Emma ran all the way back to the hotel room she had been staying in for the past several weeks. She had intended to come see Regina sooner, but she hadn't been able to work up the nerve until that day. Clearly, she had handled it poorly anyway. Emma worked the key in the lock and ran inside, not even bothering to lock the door behind her. Stripping quickly, she stepped into the hottest shower she could stand.

The stream of water steamed and hissed as it hit her body. Emma's skin burned red under its touch, and she turned and leaned heavily against the wall as she let it scald her, punish her, absolve her of her sins.

Emma hated how she had just treated Regina. And after only seeing her for the first time in so long. But all her mind could focus on was the son she had never really known, whose name, she realized, she didn't even know. How she had placed that son in Regina's care, and how he was now out in the harsh world she'd had thrust upon her as a baby as well. How it had been under Regina's care that that had occurred. Even if it wasn't Regina's fault directly, Emma couldn't just let that go. The mother inside her was too fiercely protective.

And frankly she wasn't entirely convinced of Regina's innocence anyway.

Emma felt terrible admitting that to herself. But a memory flashed through her mind:

_**"You're a senior. Aren't you 18? Why don't you leave?"**_

_**"I—it's not that simple."**_

_**Emma blew out a puff of smoke and sighed. "It would be if I were 18. I would leave—go far away from here. Run away, and NEVER look back."**_

_**"I fear that would be too kind a fate."**_

_**Emma's eyes widened slightly. "For who?"**_

_**"I'd like to kill her." Regina spun to face Emma now, meeting her eyes to show her she was serious. Her jaw clenched harshly.**_

_**Emma smirked anyway. The girl had spunk, that was for certain. Emma admired that, in a strange way.**_

_**"Don't look at me like that," Regina hissed. She approached Emma. "You don't think I could do it, do you? I could, and I would savor every second. Every terrified glance. Every scream." **_

If Regina had been so set on killing her mother then, why would it be terribly shocking if she had now? Should Emma have really expected better simply because Regina was now a mother?

The bottom line was Emma doubted Regina. She might hate herself for it, but she doubted her all the same. Sobs wracked her body as the guilt took over. That ugly, dark guilt, which started in her gut and spread, pulsing through her bloodstream, to her outermost extremities. The kind of guilt that hung her over the precipice, staring into the deep, dark unknown with no way back. Through the burns, Emma shivered as she stepped out of the spray. She grabbed a rough towel and tore at her sensitive skin in every attempt to dry herself, to scrape the guilt away, but it stayed, staining her skin, bloody, twisting, and gruesome like the blood on Lady MacBeth. Emma collapsed in a heap and instantly fell asleep, naked, body twisted grotesquely in the damp towel, burns crying for attention and tears streaming down, matting her long blonde locks.

…

"I—I'm sorry I left you so abruptly yesterday."

Regina rose from her cot where she had only fitfully slept for the past 12 hours, waking up every ten minutes or so from the gnashing teeth and suffocating clutches of a new nightmare. And as much as she knew nothing these days but hatred and pain, sadness and suffering, abandonment and manipulation, violence, rage, detachment, abuse, and heart-wrenching loss… she smiled. Her hand caressed the jail bars lightly as she approached them.

Emma stepped into view, and Regina spied the guard off in the corner behind her, supervising.

"Emma." Regina spoke softly, savoring the name.

Emma took just one step closer, still unsure, still hesitating.

Regina's face fell. "You think I did this… don't you?"

The pregnant pause that followed told Regina everything she needed to know. Emma started to say something in her own defense, but Regina held up her hand and silenced her, walking back to her cot and collapsing down, sure now that she had absolutely nothing left to lose.

"Regina, I just came to tell you I had a thought this morning. Your adoption of my son wasn't legal—I might be able to get him back… Regina please just look at me."

Regina's shoulders hunched as she squeezed her eyes together attempting to stifle the tears. Great. Regina really did care for Henry's well-being of course, and wanted him in safe hands. She hadn't really had him that long anyway—what claim had she to him? But still, she had made a connection with him in the time they'd had together. Legal or not, Regina was his mother. And now Emma was suggesting—what?—that she could legally obtain him back, and mother and son could take off merrily into the sunset, leaving Regina in a cell, doomed to perish, or worse: live a life of psychological and physical abuse devoid of the two creatures in her life who had once rendered a ray of sunshine? No.

Regina's hatred boiled to the top as she turned toward Emma. She stormed forward to the bars of her cage. "No! You left me once before, and now you intend to do so again, with _my_ son in tow? Don't you care about me at all? Or was that _all_ a lie? Was I just some twisted form of childcare for a few days while you gallivanted around with whatever man you conceived _my son_ with, without interruption?" Regina's arms stretched as far as they could through the bars, grabbing Emma's collar and pulling her forward hard against the cool metal.

The guard rushed forward and pulled Emma from Regina's grasp. "Ok, visiting time's over ladies." He guided Emma by the shoulders toward the door.

Emma was stunned. Never would she have anticipated that. That woman… that was not the girl she knew. Not the girl she fell in love with. And not the mother she had intended for her son. Her shoulders set in determination. She would get her son back and take him far away from all of this. They could start a life together.

Regina was left in the jail cell, staring at her hands. She backed up from them, scared, until the back of her knees hit the cot and she fell back onto it with a thud.

And still she stared down—bewildered—at the hands that had just harmed the most important person in her life.

When had she turned into her mother?


	6. Chapter 6

Emma was getting used to coming back to a lonely hotel room and collapsing in a state of emotional turmoil.

Upon leaving the jail the cool night air hit her face and cleared her head. Thinking back on all of those moments spent together, Emma could not convince herself in her heart that Regina would have hurt her own mother—or anybody, for that matter. With every passing second, with every thought back to their notes, their secret meetings by the apple tree, their talking and giggling and yes, falling in love, the guilt seeped through Emma once more. It attached itself to her heart like a leech, draining her, consuming her.

Emma decided she had to pursue her efforts to reclaim her son. And if—no when, she reminded herself: when—Regina was found not guilty and got out of jail, they could start a life together, finally. Their little happy family.

Emma buried her face in her pillow. The night ahead was filled with nightmares. _What if Emma couldn't save her son? What if she couldn't protect Regina? If only she could change the past—_

…

Regina sat in the courtroom, impatiently awaiting the verdict. Tapping her fingers against the table anxiously, she looked around at the surreal surroundings, attempting to draw comfort from somewhere. Next to her sat Mr. Gold; she was not any fonder of him today than she had been when the whole mess had begun. She still had no clue as to his motivations, still found it impossible to trust him, yet he was all she had.

Emma sat in the courtroom as she had every day of the trial. Regina wasn't sure why she came unless it was to flaunt her freedom and see that Regina was put away so that she could not pursue Emma and her son. Yes—her son. Mr. Gold had told Regina that Emma did, in fact, attempt to regain custody of Henry after their last meeting, and that her case was well on its way to succeeding.

And so Regina was truly only left with Mr. Gold as her ally. Everyone else had either betrayed her, thought her guilty, was too young to speak for themselves, or was dead.

Regina almost wished for a guilty verdict. The faces inside the jail appeared friendlier than what awaited her if she was set free.

But then Regina would think back to her days with Emma. She would reminisce and wonder what could have been if things had played out differently. They would have left this town years ago, together, leaving all the abuse, all the terrible memories, behind. Maybe they would have adopted a child like Henry too. But most importantly, they'd be together. Together and in love.

The jury marched solemnly back into the courtroom. Each took their seat in turn. One of the members met Regina's eyes and smiled. Regina smiled back hopefully. Maybe they _had_ found her innocent, or at least not guilty. Innocent wasn't really an option at this point.

One of the stone-faced members stood and passed a folder along to the judge.

The judge—a tired old man who looked rather bored by the entire affair—took the folder from the man and read its contents painfully slowly. Regina was grateful her fate was not up to this man alone. She had recognized the judge as someone her mother had convened with on a regular basis, and he probably would have found her guilty in mere seconds without another thought.

Mr. Gold cast a sideways smirk at Regina. Maybe she was being paranoid, but with that look from Mr. Gold, she was afraid she knew which verdict would be returned. And who was truly behind it. Her fate was sealed.

"We the jury," the judge read with the same, languid approach he had taken to reading it to himself, "… find the defendant, Regina Mills, guilty…" he continued on with the specific charges, but the word _guilty_ just continued to ring in Regina's mind. Before she even knew what was happening, officers were hauling her off roughly back toward the cell. Maybe sentencing had happened, maybe that would be a separate hearing—she had been too dazed to listen. Regina just collapsed in her cell with unseeing eyes. _Impossible, _she thought. It all must be some sick, twisted nightmare. _Regina Mills, guilty. Regina… guilty. Guilty._ It just kept repeating in her head like a bad pop tune played one too many times on the radio. _Guilty. Guilty._

Somewhere in the outside world, footsteps approached Regina's cell. Someone was watching her. Maybe they had even called her name. But her eyes wouldn't focus. Her brain wouldn't focus. Regina's entire consciousness had boiled down to one black word: guilty.

On autopilot, her eyes raised to meet the figure standing in front of her cell, who was currently observing her closely. A man. Longer hair than most. Well-dressed. With a cane. Regina's eyes didn't need to be functioning perfectly, nor did her brain need to be completely caught up. "Gold," she scowled, standing up and approaching the bars.

"Ah, ah dearie. I thought you would be thanking me."

Regina registered his toothy grin before the shadows finally cleared, revealing his face.

"After all, I did just spend several weeks arguing at your behest, against my better judgment."

Regina fumed. "I don't know what you did, Gold, but somehow this _whole_ thing—right down to the guilty verdict—is your doing. I just want to know why."

Mr. Gold ignored his client's question, casually lifting the cane up to eye level and polishing the head. He looked at it while he talked, almost as if Regina was no longer in the room. "What would you do, dearie, to go back and reverse what has been done? What would you give to unwind the wheels of time and start fresh—a second chance?" He looked up slowly and met her eyes meaningfully.

And Regina, naïve and still desperately wanting to put her hope, her faith, in someone—not to mention seemingly with nothing left to lose—looked into Mr. Gold's eyes with renewed emotion. "You—you could do that?"

"Only, Miss Mills, for a fairly steep price, one I'm afraid you probably cannot afford." Mr. Gold began to turn, as if to leave, the proposal thrown on the table for Regina to consider.

"No, wait! I can afford it! I have money. Please, I'll give you anything if you can truly turn the clock back." Regina hated begging, but again, she had nothing left to lose. Any reputation she had once carried was now thoroughly soiled anyway.

Mr. Gold turned back to her with another wide and creepy smile. "Anything?"

Regina nodded warily as Mr. Gold raised his cane over his head. She didn't have time to react as he brought it down over her head with a sickening thud. A swirling cloud of purple smoke engulfed Regina as her world went black.


End file.
